Firepunks
by RobinsonSiblings
Summary: By RobinsonSiblings. Awakening in an apocalyptic world, 66, 99, and 78, known as the Firepunk Siblings, find evidence that their creators had something to do with Project Stitchpunk, a secret experiment that was bent on bringing other dolls like themselves to life. But the Numbers Clan never reached the Underground ... where are they? And what is following them? ON HOLD.
1. Chapter One: It's Too Late

**_TF: So, Twintailz wanted to see what 66, 99, and 78 all looked like – like, a drawing or something, something to better imagine them by. I decided the best way to release a picture of them was to create a little story or something, post it, then release a picture of them as a cover. I had no idea the story would become this long ... and it's not even finished! I just wrote the first chapter on my iTouch!_**

**Wilbur: Yeah, but creating this was really fun, took a lot of effort to make everything realistic and just right, from the Machines to the events to the dates! We don't really live in England, but hey, we don't live in 3009 either!**

**_Skye: TF doesn't own anything except for ourselves, our family, and the Firewall Source. Everything else is owned by Tim Burton/Shane Acker, except for iPhones, those are owned by Apple Inc, and "As In The Days Of Noah", which is owned by Misty Edwards. This is also kinda dedicated to Twintailz!_**

**TF: Fun fact. I had no idea the Rebel Underground was a real thing in the movie, I just thought it was a made-up location by the creator of ... whoever created the Numbers 19 to 25, the Morlock Clan? Forget her name ... anyway, I found out that it wasn't made up, it's a real place. In the film, anyway. Learn something new every day, huh? :D Enjoy, and review if you want!**

* * *

_"Mankind must put an end to war before war puts an end to mankind." – John F. Kennedy_

* * *

**Firepunks**

**Chapter One: It's Too Late ...**

_July 31, 3009_

_London, England_

Several rays of light from the sun straggled through the thick, gray clouds covering the sky, brightening the quiet, tranquil city of London. Brick buildings stretched out line after line, block after block, the people in them content to try and spend their Sunday in relaxation, to try and forget the events taking place outside their sheltered world. Church had ended a while ago, and already, the sun was beginning to look a bit low as evening prepared to set in. Near the center of the city stood a small, two-story house, red brick with white trim, and a tree stood in the front yard. A white picket fence surrounded the grassy lawn, and there was a white porch attached to the home, with dark brown curtains drawn over the glass-paned windows.

If anyone were to happen to pass this house, they would most likely be able to notice the teenaged boy perched on one of the tree branches, leaning against the thick trunk as he drew something in a black sketchbook, oblivious to the world around him. The sixteen-year-old boy had messy, jet-black hair and pale blue eyes, wearing a dark blue hoodie with navy jeans and black and white All-Star sneakers. The hoodie was edged with cyan, the hood pulled over his head, and a bluish, T-shaped shard of plastic hung on a string around his neck. In one hand was a yellow No.2 pencil, which he was using to draw with at the moment.

The boy, Wilbur Internal Firewall, stopped drawing to chew on the end of his pencil, studying the sketch he had made. It was a large rectangle with various lines and engravings running through it like wires, side-notes scribbled hastily at the ... well, at the sides. Sticking the pencil in his mouth, he pulled out his iPhone and, unlocking it, went to Music and flipped through the albums. Selecting one by Misty Edwards, he put the ear-plugs in his ears and tucked the device back in his pocket, leaning against the tree to resume drawing as the music started ...

_Time_

_Time_

_Is ticking_

_By_

_And I _

_Can feel _

_An explosion_

_Inside ..._

Wilbur was the eldest child of the Firewall family, having two younger siblings named Skye and Felix, as well as several pets. Their parents, James and Linda Firewall, managed a computer shop called Firewall Source, and specialized in all types of computer-related topics and subjects. At the moment, they were back at the Source, catching up on customer papers to be filled and the usual taxes. Therefore, he was in charge, and was passing the time by designing a computer chip prototype. He didn't want to brag, but he was _very_ good at designing those, especially anti-virus protectors. The seventeen-year-old hummed softly along with the words as he took the pencil out of his mouth and added another wire to the sketch.

_And time_

_Time_

_Is ticking_

_By_

_And I_

_Can feel_

_An explosion_

_Inside ..._

Wilbur's mind wandered away from the drawing as he reflected on the events of the past several months, particularly the world-famous creation of the first ever, evolving AI robot – Binary Reactive Artificially Intelligent Neurocircut, or for short, the BRAIN. The BRAIN had been created by a man named Dr. Julius Bergone, a scientist that had originally been a toy-maker in his younger days. Matter of fact, he lived in this area of London, a few blocks or so down. Wilbur's mom said she used to get her toys from him when she was a child, and would recount stories of how she used to watch him create various types of dolls, some no bigger then a hand but detailed right down to the painted eyes.

_As in the days of Noah ..._

_As in the days of Noah ..._

Eventually, Dr. Bergone stopped toy-making and decided to become a scientist, using his genius towards technology for the benefit of man-kind. Goodness knows they had needed it. Wilbur himself had met him a few times – a nice guy, quiet, loved to invent, seemed pretty curious about how things worked if he didn't know, and was very understanding. Intelligent, too, so it was easy to see why he'd become a scientist. Dr. Bergone had been hired by the current president of England, Chancellor Ferdinard, someone whom Wilbur hadn't been particularly trusting of ... and thus, the BRAIN was created.

_There will be drinking_

_Marrying_

_Laughing ..._

_As in the days of Noah_

_What a fool!_

_They say_

_To build a boat on sand_

_What a fool!_

_They say ..._

America had collapsed as a nation hundreds of years before, during the deadly World War III, and now England was the superpower of the world. It prospered, but in doing so, exhausted the resources of the other, poorer countries around it, and no matter how many times the countries protested about their mistreatment, England brushed them off, very much like America itself had done. Eventually, the rest of the Earth decided that enough was enough, and World War IV had broken out between England and everyone else. Years – decades – of fighting passed, with millions of lives lost and cities destroyed, and finally, England won with it's superior weaponry, leaving their country victorious while the other countries were even worse off then before, on the verge of crumbling.

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

_As in the days of Noah_

_So it will be_

_In the coming of the Son of Man ..._

Then, the President, or "the Chancellor" as he was nicknamed, had stepped in. He began spreading the news of technology and science being the new future of Earth, about how, with Machines to do everything, the entire world would recover from the horrors of war and cease fighting. About how they must join together as one and unite, settling into a rich and prosperous era of peace. Peace ... that was what was worrying him.

"For when they say, "Peace and safety!" then sudden destruction comes upon them, as labor pains upon a pregnant woman. And they shall not escape ..."

_And what a fool!_

_They say_

_To fast and pray_

_And what a fool!_

_They say_

_C'mon_

_It's been two thousand years_

_Do you really think that He's coming?_

_Come on and just get _

_Real ..._

The Bible wasn't wrong. The Bible was never wrong. As a devote Christian, Wilbur paid a lot of attention to what it said, and what the Chancellor had been saying then sounded a lot like what was written in the words of Paul. At first, nothing bad happened. The Chancellor assigned Dr. Bergone to the project of creating an AI robot to lead the progress of technology, one unlike any other AI created before, one that acted human. After many failed attempts, the AI had been created, the BRAIN itself. Dr. Bergone had given them the BRAIN, and it was placed in the famous Fabrication Factory, even being given a new, mechanical body attached to the building itself, called the Fabrication Machine. There, the BRAIN had set to work producing robotic technology as programmed, and people had been genuinely impressed.

Key word.

Had.

_But remember this verse_

_And many _

_Many scoffers will come ..._

That had been almost a month ago, in July. Linda and Dr. Bergone had been sending letters to each other, being old friends since she was ten, and once the news of the BRAIN being activated for work had been released, something ... changed. Dr. Bergone had written to Linda, distraught, and explained to her that this wasn't supposed to be happening. Despite what the Chancellor was telling everyone, he had not given the BRAIN to the president. It had been forcibly seized, without warning, the moment he said it was finished. The action had sent Dr. Bergone into a panic. The AI could indeed create technology, but it was so advanced that it almost had the mind of a human, and it's seizure had prevented the scientist from properly testing it out.

It could turn, he explained. It was that human. The Chancellor didn't know that he was playing with fire, if pushed too hard, something terrible could happen. The BRAIN was capable of so much more then just creating technology ... Dr. Bergone didn't go into detail. But he did say that the Chancellor wanting the BRAIN so soon, and willing to use force to get it, had caused him to begin doubting if it really would be used the way he said he'd use it. He also pointed out something interesting to Wilbur's mother. The Chancellor had indeed announced the BRAIN was working and creating more Machines – but only after it had already been set in motion.

Why? Why would he announce it after everything was already done? If he really was aiming for peace, then he would've told the nations while the BRAIN was still working, to boost their hopes, maybe even before the BRAIN had started. But not after. Not if he was really looking to create peace ...

Then, on July 17th ... war broke out.

_And when the rain_

_Starts _

_Falling_

_It's too late_

_It's too late ..._

The Chancellor, without any warning or provoking at all, declared war once again and attacked the surrounding countries, using the new-found technology against them, using the BRAIN to create hundreds upon thousands of war Machines at a non-stop pace. The Machines were attacking, even deadlier then the human soldiers had been during the last War, slaughtering millions, gas-bombs, bullets, missiles, grenades, and land-mines wrecking havoc on the world systems. The death toll rose farther every day. The radio was constantly pouring out news of the destruction, the Chancellor saying how this War, World War V, would benefit the entire Earth.

_And when the rain_

_Starts_

_Falling_

_It's too late_

_It's too late ..._

Benefit? When did war benefit anyone? All the president was doing was blatantly destroying those he found weak, seeking out more power for himself and for his admitted dream of a one-world government, where he would rule the entire planet. At one time, Wilbur would have laughed at that – sounded far too much like some cheesy movie villain with his lame goals and constant failures. Not now. Now that he was in the middle of this kind of event, it no longer was a joke ... it was a threat. A deadly, deadly threat. Waging war against another country to protect oneself, like in World War IV, was one thing – attacking just for power was another all together.

_As in the days of Noah ..._

This was all part of the Bible prophecy ...

Wilbur shook his head, trying to wave away the thoughts of the War waging outside their city, looked back down at the drawing. In the back of his mind, when he thought about the BRAIN, he couldn't help but feel a cold chill of dread run down his spine ... as if his subconscious knew something he didn't. Kinda like the feeling you got when creepy music started playing in a horror movie and you _knew,_ absolutely _knew,_ that something bad was going to happen. After all, there had been those reports of several war Machines suddenly going wrong, killing both sides instead of just one. Of course, they had been destroyed as a programming accident, but maybe that was a warning sign of something else ...

Or maybe he was just being paranoid. After all, how much worse could their world get when they were already in the middle of the beginning of World War V? At least there was a small, faint flicker of hope it would all stop, that things would go back to normal ... Wilbur sighed, shaking his head and causing his black hair to sway slightly. As long as there was that little bit of hope, there was that tiny chance things could cha–

**_BOOM!_**

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

The ground shook violently, almost throwing Wilbur off the branch and sending the sketchbook plummeting to the lawn below. It hit the grass with a thud, and Wilbur righted himself, whipping his head around to peer out through the leafy foliage and out at the city, in the direction the massive explosion had come from. His pale blue eyes widened, and he gasped, covering his mouth with one hand. In the distance, a section of buildings had fallen to the ground, engulfed in raging flames that sent dark smoke billowing out into the cloudy sky. Screams rent the air as sirens began wailing, and in the sky could be seen flying one of the Machines, a huge, black bird-like one with eight red eyes.

Then it swooped down, but instead of stopping the fire with the chemical foam it was surely carrying, it dropped a small, black box down into another group of buildings. Instantly, another explosion shook the ground as flames leapt up from where the box had been dropped, the force of the blast leveling the houses and sending people running for their lives. More winged Machines appeared, dropping more boxes that could only be bombs, throwing a mixture of rubble, smoke, and dust into the air. Wilbur stared at the destruction in horror as Dr. Bergone's warnings of the BRAIN flew through his stunned mind ...

It could turn. It was that human. The Chancellor didn't know that he was playing with fire, if pushed too hard, something terrible could happen. The BRAIN was capable of so much more then just creating technology ...

_One day_

_Two days_

_Three days gone by ..._

_And time_

_Time_

_Is ticking _

_By_

_And I_

_Can feel _

_An explosion _

_Inside ..._

Wilbur sucked in his breath sharply. "Oh, Mod ..." the boy whispered, finally realizing what was happening.

That was it. The Chancellor had pushed the BRAIN too far. It couldn't handle creating that many Machines without any rest ... it had finally rebelled against him. Against them. Against the human race. And if it rebelled, then it's thousands upon thousands of death-dealing creations would rebel with it. World War V was nothing compared to this new war that had just broken out ... the War of the Machines. For humans knew when to stop. Machines ...

Didn't.

_People get ready_

_Jesus is coming_

_And many _

_Many_

_Scoffers will rise in that day _

_And they'll say ..._

Another explosion sent flames leaping into the sky, and green-brown dust filled the air, screams and crashes and sirens and engines adding to the chaos of noise as havoc was wreaked through the once-peaceful city. More mechanical birds appeared, some dropping bombs while others rained down a hail of bullets down at the fleeing people, and still others dropped bundles that exploded into swarms of mechanical, tiny, spider-like robots. The ground trembled from the bombs and planted land-mines going off, and Wilbur abruptly realized how close the chaos was coming towards him – and how fast. The Machines would be covering their block in no time, and here he'd be in the middle of it.

The teenager quickly leaped off the branch he was perched on, landing on his feet as he snatched his notebook, then sprinted back to the house and, running up the steps, threw the door open. He bolted inside and slammed it shut again, pressing his back against the entrance, and yelled, "SKYE!"

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

_It's never rained before!_

There was the sound of swiftly moving feet, and a girl a bit younger then himself ran down the stairs holding the hand of a young child, a boy. Both of them stopped a few steps before the floor, the girl's eyes wide as she gripped the banister and the boy sucking his thumb while pressed his head against the girl's leg. The girl was sixteen-year-old Skye Uni Robinson Firewall, the middle child of the Firewall family. Being an albino, she had unusually pale skin with long, white hair done in a braid and streaked with dyed red, eyes a pale pink. She was wearing a dark red hoodie edged with scarlet, and dark brown jeans with red and white sneakers. The hood wasn't over her head like Wilbur's was, and she had on small, golden hoop earrings. Around her neck hung a red shard of plastic shaped like a U, not unlike the necklace Wilbur was wearing.

The younger boy was seven-year-old Felix Avatar Nano Firewall, the youngest child of the Firewalls and an adopted, Hispanic boy. He had olive-tanned skin with jet-black hair and deep brown eyes, wearing a dark green, hooded jacket over a lighter green T-shirt. His jeans were gray, one sock black while the other was white, and had neon-orange sneakers. His hood was on, and around his neck was another necklace, holding two small, green plastic squares and a silver paperclip.

Skye stared at her older brother. "Wilbur!" she exclaimed. "What's going on out there?!"

_Rain_

_Rain_

_Go away!_

_Hide me from the_

_Wrath of the Lamb!_

He stared back at her, panting slightly from his wild rush to the house, then closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door, facing the ceiling. "It's happened ..."

She blinked. "What? What's happened?!"

The teenager opened his pale blue eyes and looked back at her. "What Dr. Bergone said ... just happened."

_And when the rain _

_Starts _

_Falling_

_It's too late ..._

Skye took a moment to process that, then gasped and covered her mouth. "You don't m-mean ..."

Wilbur nodded. "The BRAIN rebelled, and now, it's creations are attacking us. The War of the Machines has begun."

His sister looked horrified. "B-but ..." she stammered. "But Mom and Dad are still out there! They're back at the Source! What about them?!"

_"I DON'T KNOW, OKAY?!"_

Skye stepped back slightly, a little hurt, and her brother rubbed his forehead, taking a deep breath. "... I don't know ..." he murmured. "I don't know where they are right now ..."

"Later?" Felix asked, taking his thumb out of his mouth long enough to ask the question.

Wilbur nodded. "Yeah, they ... they'll probably manage to find a way back here tomorrow ... they're fine ... they have to be."

_And when the rain_

_Starts_

_Falling_

_It's too late ..._

He was trying to convince himself more then his siblings. The Machines had appeared to be attacking dangerously near where their parents had gone, so things looked rather bad. But they couldn't assume the worst. Most likely, Jamie and Linda were fine and just laying low until the Machines moved on to destroy another part of the city, then they'd come and get their kids. All they had to do was lay low themselves ...

"Okay," the teenager said, holding up a hand. "Mom and Dad are most likely laying low until the Machines move out of their area, then they'll come and get us. Until then, we'll hide out here and pray to God that these things won't try to bomb us. Hopefully, we won't have to be here long – Dad knows the way to the Rebel Underground system. We'll be safe there. We just gotta wait."

"Do you think they'll be stopped?" Skye asked nervously.

Wilbur blinked. "Who?"

She bit her lip. "The Machines ... the BRAIN ... do you think they'll be stopped?"

_And when the rain_

_Starts_

_Falling_

_It's too late ..._

Her brother paused, then looked out of the door-window and at the chaos in the streets. He sighed, reaching up, and pulled the curtain down to cover the glass as he shook his head. "I hope so ... I sure hope so."

Hope.

He'd have to cling to that.

Because if he didn't, that last, little bit of it would flicker out ... if it hadn't already.

_And when the rain_

_Starts_

_Falling_

_It's too late ..._

_It's too late_

* * *

_"For when they say, "Peace and safety!" then sudden destruction comes upon them, as labor pains upon a pregnant woman. And they shall not escape."_

_1 Thessalonians 5: 3, NKJV (New King James Version)_

_TF (TFTime)_

_Wilbur (Wilbur-Nator)_

_Skye (RobinsInTheSkye)_

_Felix (Wreck-It Felix)_


	2. Chapter Two: Awakening

**TF: So, here is the second chapter of Firepunks! This took quite a while to write, I did a TON of research regarding the eMails, making sure the events and the dates and the characters and such were correct, giving out tidbits, but not too much information about anything, although it's certainly enough to make somebody wonder!**

_**Wilbur: As usual, she doesn't own anything except us. TF does own 66 though, and Rufus is owned by the same person who was mentioned in the first chapter ... the one with the Underground being a real place in the film? Still forget her name. –_–' iPhones are still owned by Apple, the song "Awakening" is owned by Chris Tomlin, and TPKR is owned by us, including it's characters!**_

_**Skye: Expect updates on TPKR shortly. And please review!**_

**TF: Because I always feel like, if I spent days writing a new chapter only for nobody to even comment on it, I feel like it's horrible and whatnot. I updated Stitchpunk Rush, like, what? Two weeks ago? One week ago? And NO new reviews! And I worked a week on that ... :(**

_**Wilbur: Well ... enjoy!**_

* * *

_"The end is the beginning of all things, suppressed and hidden ... awaiting to be released through the rhythm of pain and pleasure." – Jiddu Krishnamurti_

* * *

**Firepunks**

**Chapter Two: Awakening**

_Thirty-five years later ..._

A small, dusty breeze swirled through the destroyed and empty streets of what remained of London, toppled houses, crushed cars, rubble, piles of broken metal and scorched earth, and dead bodies testifying the aftermath of the War of the Machines. There was nothing left. Nothing at all. The Machines, led by the rebelled BRAIN, had become too strong and intelligent, overpowering humanity with their enhanced weapons and machinery, their tools of Death. All signs of life were gone. The people ... the animals ... the insects ... the plants ... the water ... even the bacteria and cell matter.

Gone. Vanished. Extinct, never to return. Man-kind had fought against the very monsters it had created, but it wasn't enough. They had lost. Now, all that was left of Earth was a post-apocolyptic rubble pile inhabited by merciless Machines. Even the sun, moon, and stars were gone, hidden behind the thick canopy of toxic, green gas that hung in the air and created their own artificial clouds, smothering any light that dared tried to filter through.

The wing sighed through the broken branches of a toppled tree, twirling through the shattered, glass window of a ruined house nearby. Passing over the rubble and thick layer of dust that coated everything inside, the moving air whipped down a hall and through what appeared to be a study of some kind, rustling items in it's wake as it vanished out another splintered window, uninterested in it's surroundings now that it knew there were no signs of life. Time to go through the next building ... _again ..._

An iPhone that was leaning hazardously against a stack of books, disturbed by the gust of air, tilted slightly before overbalancing and falling over, smacking against an unplugged power-bar in it's impact with the wooden table it was on. It bounced before clattering to the floor, and the power-bar teetered on the edge of the desk before following the black device down.

**_THUD!_**

_In our hearts_

_Lord_

_In this nation_

_Awakening ..._

_Holy Spirit_

_We desire_

_Awakening ..._

The electrical appliance crashed into the ground, throwing up several decades-worth of dust and rolling over several times before jolting to a stop upon hitting the iPhone. The iPhone's bounce just moments before had hit a button on a tiny recorder, causing music that was pre-recorded decades before to stream softly out of the slightly-worn speakers, filling the usually silent room. There was silence except for the tune of the song, the dust settling again, when there was a small, faint, rustling noise. It faded away, then returned, louder then before, and the power-bar moved slightly before resting back where it was. More silence.

... Tap. Tap. Tap.

_For You and_

_You alone_

_Awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_And sing ..._

_For the world You love_

_Your will be done_

_Let Your will be done_

_In me ..._

The sharp, clicking sound of metal against metal echoed through the room slowly, softly, as if whatever was causing it was simply curious. It stopped, and there was a long pause.

_... Tap. Tap. Tap._

_... BANG. BANG. BANG._

**_BANG! BANG! BANG BANG!_**

The clicking turned into hitting, then banging, then literal pounding, as if something was behind a door and wanted out. The power-bar, the source of the frantic noises, jolted backwards as though it'd been hit, rolling over, and the pounding increased in volume and speed.

**_BANGBANGBANG__BANG!_**

_In Your presence_

_In Your power_

_Awakening ..._

_For this moment_

_For this hour_

_Awakening ..._

The electric bar jerked again, forward this time, as it rolled and clattered across the floor, when it hit a nail sticking out of the wooden floorboards. The sudden jolt brought the power-bar to a sharp stop, and the outlets in the front burst open, revealing a hidden opening in the bar appliance. Instantly a blur of blue and black tumbled out of the opening and crashed to the floor with a startled yelp. It lay still for a moment, then sneezed, and dark steel optics opened, slightly dazed but quickly focusing. It shook it's head before shakily sitting up, dusting itself off and looking around the destroyed room in obvious confusion.

The figure appeared to be a doll of some sort, barely the size of a human hand, and was made out of some kind of smooth cloth that was jet-black in color. Steel-rimmed optics, colored a very dark gray, served as eyes, and the doll's hands and feet were made of black ebony, with only four fingers. It looked like it was wearing a dark blue, hooded jacket, lined with neon-aqua, and a shard of plastic shaped like a "T" was attached to the front of this jacket. The bottom of this jacket ended in a long V shape in both the front and back, and around the doll's waist was a dark brown, leather belt, in the belt studded a gleaming, bright yellow jewel.

At it's left side hung a lighter leather pouch, shut at the moment and marked with a beaded, aqua cross pattern, and around the doll's arms and legs were tied greenish-brown strings. On it's right knee was sewn a white patch in the shape of a lightning-bolt, and a thin strand of black wire curled out from the doll's head like a cow-lick. The being appeared to be male, and on the back of the doll's jacket was visible a hastily-written number in white ink.

_For You and_

_You alone_

_Awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_And sing ..._

66.

The doll, 66, looked up at the ceiling, then down at the power-bar he'd formally been trapped in. He frowned. "Mod ..."

He gasped and clapped his black hands over his mouth, steel-rimmed eyes widening in surprise at the sound that had just come out of him. Did he just do that? 66 cautiously uncovered his mouth. "... Hello?"

That was defiantly him. The doll blinked, then paused. "... Testing, testing, one two three ... anyone there?"

Silence. "... Oh, forget it."

_For the world You love_

_Your will be done_

_Let Your will be done_

_In me ..._

Despite apparently being completely alone, his mood had brightened a little at the unexpected aspect of speech. Smiling faintly, 66 pulled his jacket hood, which had originally been against his back, over his head where it belonged, somewhat shadowing his already-dark face. He looked back at the power-bar, smilie fading as questions flooded through his mind. How exactly had he gotten in _there?_ As a matter of fact, how exactly was he even _ALIVE?_ He didn't remember anything, and yet, he somehow knew everything, or close to it. That his number was 66, that the thing he had just gotten out of was a power-bar, that the noises coming out of him was called a voice, and individually, letters, which were strung together to create words, then sentences, that the thin, tablet-thing was an iPhone, that–

iPhone?

_For You and_

_You alone_

_Awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_And sing ..._

66 whipped his head around to stare down at the black-cased object lying next to him. iPhone. A mobil device created by the Apple Company, with the ability to go online, write notes, take pictures, keep contacts, download games, send eMails, play music, communicate through phoning– Mod, how _DID_ he know all of this?! He felt slightly creeped out at the moment. It was like someone had just downloaded a ton of information into him or something ...

Leaning over the black touch-screen, the doll paused, then timidly reached out and pressed the indented Home button. Nothing. Was it out of energy? 66 saw a second button up on the top left edge, thin and rectangular, and scooted over, pressing down on this new button hard. Still nothing. Maybe it needed more pressure? He pressed the button again, harder, and kept it like that for a couple seconds. The screen flickered abruptly, then lit up as the Apple logo appeared, and 66 released the button, realizing the tablet-thing was on now. This was cool ...

_For the world You love_

_Your will be done_

_Let Your will be done_

_In me ..._

What felt like hours, but what was probably mere seconds, passed, and just as the black being was wondering if he'd broken it, the Apple logo vanished, the lock-screen instead coming up. The desktop was a digital drawing of two anthropomorphic cats back to back, with the letters "TPKR" emblazoned overhead. One cat was gray, wearing a black, hooded robe and holding a glowing sword-like weapon – a lightsaber? – while the second cat was yellow, wearing a red and black dress and holding a normal, metal sword.

After a moment, a keyboard popped up on the screen, obviously requesting a pass-code be entered for access to be granted. 66 frowned. Now there was a problem. He didn't know any codes, let alone one for this thin device, but he couldn't just leave it. Something inside of him was nudging him to look through the iPhone, that something important was there, and he just couldn't rest or look around until he knew what it was. He wasn't going to ignore the feeling. No way.

_Like the rising Sun _

_That shines ..._

_From the darkness_

_Comes a light ..._

66 paused, thinking hard, when something flashed through his mind. He blinked, wondering what the heck that even meant and why that, but gingerly reached out and typed in a single word – "WiFi".

_I hear Your Voice_

_And this is my_

_Awakening ..._

There was a sharp click, and the lock-screen vanished, replaced by what looked like an eMail mailbox, with messages to and from the iPhone lined up. That was strange ... he thought if something was turned on, it would go to the menu, not one of the downloaded apps ... five messages sent out, and three sent in. The feeling in his gut, if dolls even _had _guts, intensified, and 66 clicked on the first message.

_Like the rising Sun_

_That shines ..._

_From the darkness_

_Comes a light ..._

**_August 9, 3009_**

**_Firewall –_**

**_I have decided to put in action an experiment. I started this War, and by Thames, I will be the one to create what will finish it. I do not want the Chancellor learning of this experiment, and because my movements are being too closely watched for me to allow these projects to stay, I will send them to you. I trust you. Here are your instructions._**

**_I want you to send out your dog, Bolt, once every night, if possible. Direct him to my house and wait. If I have finished one project, I will give it to Bolt in a special case containing the project's blueprints, journal entry, and the project itself. They will probably take only two to three days to create each, for I have been working on their blueprints for twenty years now. They are perfected now, and ready to be made. I want you to guard them from harm while they are in your charge, and do not let any Machine or human besides yourselves see them._**

**_When I have decided the projects are complete, I will send you a special device that is capable of sending my projects into shut-down, or forced sleep, mode for three to five hours. You will also be supplied with directions to a Rebel outpost, where one of my Rebellion friends, Rufus Harland, will take the projects to the Underground. There, they will be kept safe until the appointed time._**

**_Please take care of my projects, and treat them well. To me, they're much more then just projects ... they will be my last gift to this broken and war-torn world. They will be my children. And they will be the ones to end this War for good._**

**_Dr. Julius Bergone_**

**_"Project__ Stitchpunk"_**

66 blinked in confusion. Stitchpunk? What in Mod was a Stitchpunk? He flipped to the next message, this one being a letter sent out rather then in. Maybe by whoever owned this?

_I hear Your Voice_

_And this is my_

_Awakening ..._

_**August 17, 3009**_

_**Dr. Bergone –**_

_**Are you there?**_

_**I got the first project on August 11. But it's been over a week now. You said they'd only take several days, so ... what happened? Why is there nothing else? Did something happen to you?**_

_**I sent Bolt out a while back, on August 17. He came back with a gunshot wound. He's okay now, but now, I'm getting worried. The Winged Beasts here don't use guns, only human soldiers do. And he went to your house. That's it.**_

_**Where are you?**_

_**You said there were soldiers watching your house ... God help us.**_

_**W.**** Firewall**_

Now here was something new. Winged Beast. What in Mod was a Winged Beast, let alone a Stitchpunk? And what kind of "projects" were they talking about? It was like a code or something ... perhaps the next message would help explain. It was sent to the iPhone, so that looked promising.

_Like the rising Sun_

_That shines ..._

_Awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_And sing ..._

_**August 18, 3009**_

_**Firewall –**_

**_I'm fine. And so are my creations. It is a relief you received the first project, and I apologize for not answering directly nor sending you a message. My position has become very dangerous, and unfortunately, I also caught a slight cold a week back, so progress was very slow. I was afraid it wasn't going to work this time at all, but thank God, it did. I finished the second project on August 17._**

**_I was meaning to send each project to you as I finished them, but as you can see, something came up. Something I would rather have never happened, and if it did, at least the projects would have nothing to do with it. But they did, all too well, or to be more exact. just the second one. It happened the same day I finished it, August 17, and I very nearly lost everything._**

**_I'd rather not talk about it. My second project was very nearly confiscated, along with the rest of my work. Thank God it wasn't. Now I have nothing to begin work on the projects again, except myself and my memories. I will have to speed things up. My second project suggested I create the third and fourth ones at the same time, and I must admit, it's not such a bad idea. I will have to try it._**

**_I will send the three to you once the next ones are complete – I need the second one for the time being. Keep the first one safe. My analysis seems to indicate, oddly enough, that the first and second projects are siblings somehow ... and I think of myself and Claude ... before ..._**

**_Never mind._**

**_I expect myself to to send them to you by the 20th, as observation is needed on the 19th. But I worry. This interruption has not only set askew my time-table, but my emotions. I didn't want this to happen. I planned to simply create my projects, observe their actions and movements long enough to create a portfolio for Rufus to base upon, and then send them to your house in case the soldiers try something. I didn't want to get to know, actually KNOW, them personally, like human beings ... I didn't want to get attached._**

**_My second project, just after the "Mischance", called me Father._**

**_... It will be very hard for me to let him go._**

**_Dr. Juli__us__ Bergone_**

66 sat back, pursing his mouth. He still didn't know what a Beast was, neither a Stitchpunk, but he got the idea these "projects" were something alive. Something that could walk, could talk, could think, could be related, like a human. He somehow knew what a human was – a large being that looked a bit like him, but natural. Created by God instead of ... whoever he was created by, and he knew somebody created him. He just didn't know who.

_From the darkness_

_Comes a light ..._

_Awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_And sing ..._

But these "projects" sounded like they were, despite being alive, made by the Julius person. Why? Why was he creating them? 66 wished the letters said more, but the information they yielded was so minuscule it was hopeless to learn anything beyond the "projects" were alive. Probably small, if they could fit in a case like the first eMail hinted. The the second one was a male, since Julius said "him". He wondered why. Everywhere else whatever-it-was was mentioned, it was called an "it". Possibly Julius wrote that accidentally? It just slipped out or something?

_Like the rising sun_

_That shines ..._

_Awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_And sing ..._

Something was ... or had been ... going on all those years back. Something secret. Something important. Something alive ... something like him.

_Only You can raise a life_

_Awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_And sing ..._

And 66 was determined to find out exactly what.

* * *

_"Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures."_

_James 1: 18, NKJV (New King James Version)_

_TF (TFTime)_

_Wilbur (Wilbur-Nator)_

_Skye (RobinsInTheSkye)_

_Felix (Wreck-It Felix)_


End file.
